


North & Slightly Less North

by gluecklich



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Drabble Collection, F/M, Five Kisses Challenge, Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluecklich/pseuds/gluecklich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Jon/Sansa centered drabbles from Tumblr. Will be updated accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Five Times - Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Five Times prompt or the Five Kisses Challenge. Originally posted to Tumblr on 8/06/2015.

The first time he kisses her is at Robb's graduation party - the after hours kind. They're a mess of limbs pressed into a corner and all she can think about is the bow of his mouth and the loose way he holds the neck of a bottle. She's never been fond of beer, but she chases the taste of it across his tongue all the same.

They don't speak of it the next morning, though she keeps the memory closely guarded while thoughts of Joffrey fade away.

\----

The second time she initiates, pressing him back into the counter of Sam Tarly's sad apartment kitchen. He tastes crisp this time, his gin and tonic forgotten as he curls a hand around her waist. They were meant to be getting dessert, or alcohol, or maybe it was plates, Sansa can't seem to remember as she slips her hand beneath his shirt.

He shivers and puts his lips to her jaw.

\----

The third time is expected, a look across the room, the fleeting touch of his hand at her back. It's 10 am at Old Nan's birthday party and there's no alcohol to breed false familiarity. Aware of the cool look her mother is sending her way, she makes excuses and slips out onto the porch. He's got an unlit cigarette between his fingers and she takes a moment to appreciate the subterfuge before one side of his mouth crooks up and he's in her space.

She tastes like lemon cake, she knows, and it warms something low in her belly to hear him chuckle after the first swipe of tongue.

\----

The fourth time they have an audience, holed up beneath the sheets of an impromptu blanket fort. They've been fending off tiny invaders for the better part of an hour when she catches one of his curls around her finger and tugs. The shock sets him off-balance, enough of a distraction for her cousins to come tumbling in. His wounded look of betrayal as they take him down is nearly enough to make her contrite.

As a peace offering, she presses her mouth to the corner of his lips, laughing.

\----

The fifth time he kisses her is in a gravel driveway at the tail-end of July. The summer air is balmy and she watches the play of his muscles beneath his shirt as he loads luggage into the car. Robb and Jeyne are held up with goodbyes and the rest of her siblings have all dispersed to separate corners of the house. It's startlingly quiet. He'll still be here, she knows, but she can't seem to shake the feeling of an ending, so she fists his t-shirt in lieu of speaking.

His mouth on hers is enough.


	2. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate to avoid running into her ex and his family, Sansa Stark purposely misses her flight to her parent's summer home. Unfortunately, all her planning hadn't taken into account Jon Snow's chivalrous compulsions and now she's stuck on an impromptu road trip across the Eastern U.S and Midwest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These drabbles are part of a graphic series found here - http://glueck.tumblr.com/tagged/roadtripau

She should have known better, given the size of her family and the range of their networking, she should have waited until she was sure everyone had already left. But for all her planning, the hours she’d spent hunched over a cocktail napkin at the airport concocting excuses - she’d forgotten Jon snow. Her older brother Robb’s dutiful friend, a surrogate brother and son to the rest of her family. One phone call and here she was, waiting outside the airport as his dark green station wagon hobbled into view. _Fuck._

\----

They were 3 days and multiple chip bags into this adventure, and Sansa was taking special care to detour to the oddest roadside tourist-traps she could find, drawing lazy circles into the map she’d pulled from Jon’s glove compartment 15 minutes outside of New Jersey. Though it had started as an earnest – i.e. desperate – attempt to eat up time and delay the inevitable, she was now taking a perverse joy in watching Jon’s face shift as she announced each new attraction; the furrow in his brow deepening briefly as one side of his mouth twitched before it too smoothed out. They’d come to an unspoken agreement that she would never explain herself and he would never ask. Instead they would make a slow descent into the south hitting every overblown piece of furniture, miniature town, and papier-mâché dinosaur exhibit they could find.

‘Take a left in 300 miles to see the _Unbelievable Mystery Hole._ ’ 

Jon makes a low sound in his throat and Sansa has to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

\----

It's 7 am at a diner in Tennessee when Sansa feels the familiar twist in her gut, her limbs suddenly foreign and her skin too tight. She folds one foot beneath her and toys with a corner of the laminated menu to take off the edge. Jon's distracted by the breakfast specials and she feels momentary relief in the fact that he can't see the color seep into her cheeks. She's not sure when it happened, can't pinpoint the exact moment or state line that was crossed, but she knows that whatever Jon Snow was to her in NYC, he's not that to her now.

'How long do you think pancakes keep?' There's something in the lilt of his voice that has her looking up and meeting his eyes across the table.

'What?'

'Pancakes,' he repeats, the bow of his mouth betraying his amusement, 'four entire pages of pancakes. It's starting to feel like a challenge.'

The corners of his eyes are crinkling. _Shit._

\----

It's not the first time they've had to share a bed on this trip, but it's the first time since she's noticed the way Jon's hand lingers on her back when they're touring, or the persistent rate at which his eyes find her when he thinks she's not paying attention.

It's only been 24 hours and she's amazed at how stark the difference feels. Had this been 4 days ago she wouldn't have made anything of the silence between them, they'd had years of shared space and quiet. But it feels like a gulf now, thick and taut, and she's been perched on the bed for the last hour waiting for the recoil.

The mattress dips and he's close enough that she can feel the warmth of him bleeding into her side. He's always been so courteous with boundaries, innately aware of the lines she's drawn around herself - never crossing. But she wishes now, _oh_ , she wishes.

His pinky finger skims the edge of her knuckle and she exhales, feeling the drop in pressure at the base of her spine. It's such an innocuous touch. Buoyed, she spreads her fingers and watches his hand overtake hers where she's pressed it into the bed. _Oh._

\----

They're about 20 minutes from her parent's summer home and Sansa can't seem to extract her hand from Jon's. She's sure it must be cramping at this point, her grip long-grown tight. But he hasn't commented, choosing to rub soothing circles into the pale skin at her wrist instead. 'We don't have to say anything.'

They've had this discussion a thousand times over the last two days, since that first night she'd pressed her lips to his, or his to hers, and all her secrets had come tumbling out. It's endearing for all that it frustrates her. The honorable Jon Snow worrying she's taken this thing between them as a burden, an additional anxiety to lay down beside Joffrey and his family. She wishes briefly they were back at the motel, that she could curl her hand into the hair at the base of his neck and feel his contented sigh ghost across her skin. 

She'd tell him then he was an idiot. 

Instead she pulls his hand into her lap and pinches at the skin of his elbow - _hard_. His surprised gasp catches on a laugh, and she watches the war of his features as he attempts to wince and smile at the same time.

‘Alright,’ he says, meeting her eyes, ‘alright.’


	3. Missed Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a one-night stand following a party, Sansa and Jon are left trying to figure out what they are to each other and what they want to be - in the most haphazard way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These drabbles are part of a graphic series found here - http://glueck.tumblr.com/tagged/missedcallau

The back of her phone is hot from where she'd left it upturned on the bench, secretly hoping if she ignored it long enough it would magically produce the texts she was expecting. They'd been out on the pier for hours and Arya's pointed looks were becoming nearly obnoxious as Robb's desperate attempts to remain uninvolved. Sighing, she presses it back on and wills herself to avoid the notifications till she's swiped in. It takes her two attempts at non-chalance before she looks. 

Nothing. _What the fuck, Jon._

\----

He'd driven north until the signal cut out and his phone stopped vibrating. The rational part of his brain, the one that wasn't flying headlong into panic induced sobriety, was pretty sure that this was a terrible idea. But he'd been up and out before he'd fully had time to process, adrenaline pumping through his system while he desperately tried to collect his clothes. He had hesitated in the doorway, testing the give of the floorboards beneath him, but thinking about Robb just down the hallway had propelled him forward.

_Great, Jon. Fuck your best friend’s sister and run away._

\----

She'd spent the majority of the day thinking she'd misread him, that maybe it really was a hapless one night stand -- and then he texts back 'ok.' She's stuck staring at the message a full minute before it really sets in. Ok.

For all the flowery thoughts she'd woken up to, murder is currently at the forefront of her mind. 

'Still nothing?' Sansa bites the inside of her cheek and shakes her head. 'That bad?' A nod.

Arya had followed her and Lady to the beach, replacing the pointed looks with direct questions. She loves her sister, she does, but her presence is a grating reminder that not all of her siblings are so poorly versed in reading Jon Snow. 'He isn't speaking to me either.'

It's a small relief and Sansa feels her shoulders loosen, budging up so Arya can sit down next to her. Her sister scoffs when she sees the phone, 'He's _so_ dumb.'

\----

He's cursing his decision to drive into Oregon after 40 minutes of trying to text Sansa back. He's gotten one word through and he really doubts she’ll appreciate the two syllables he picked. _Shit._

He whistles and Ghost comes bounding through the brush to follow him back to the car. They hadn't been in the forest more than an hour before rationality and guilt won out. Even if it was an accidental one-off, he owed her an actual conversation. Avoiding the situation wasn’t like him, not to mention it was a near impossibility given how wrapped up he was with her family. He was pretty sure Robb already knew – Arya definitely, given the texts on his phone. 

Sighing, he rubs his eyes and lets Ghost into the backseat. He'd managed 5 years without giving himself away; he could suck it up now and go back to pretending he wasn't completely in love with her.

'Easy,’ he mutters, climbing into the car himself. He catches his tight expression in the rear-view mirror, Ghost staring solemnly over his shoulder.

‘Yeah, I don’t believe it either.’

\----

tbc. 


	4. All That Glitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to Tumblr on 8/25/2015

She’s lying pin-wheeled on their kitchen floor when Jon returns, Ghost and Lady squeezing their way in before him. She feels it says a lot about their relationship and her current mental state that he barely acknowledges her taking up a majority of the tiled space. In fact, both he and the dogs _step over_ her without commentary.

_Et tu, Lady? _She thinks, dramatically reaching out one hand to the husky’s retreating form.__

__She can hear the click of their nails as they trail Jon into the family room, anxiously awaiting their post-walk treat._ _

__It isn’t until she hears the return footfalls and sees Jon’s shadow pass over her that she decides to speak. ‘I’m dying.’_ _

__‘You’re covered in glitter,’ he says, leaning against the door frame and crossing his ankles, ‘and sequins.’_ _

__‘Mistakes were made.’ He quirks an eyebrow. ‘Many mistakes.’_ _

__Three months ago she’d volunteered to help Jeyne come up with a costume for the twins. However, she’d severely underestimated the amount of work involved as well as the fickle nature of cheap craft goods._ _

__She was going to sparkle forever._ _


	5. It's Fine By Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was posted to Tumblr on 8/26/2015.

‘Stop wriggling.’  


She curls her toes and notices the muscles in his leg jump. _‘Sansa.’_

His entire thigh is tensed where she’s buried her feet beneath it and she can’t help the maniacal glee she feels bubbling up at his discomfort. Her pinky toe brushes the back of his knee and he twists into the armrest. _‘Seriously?’_

She’s laughing outright now, his face a mix of shocked indignation.

Discovering Jon Snow’s complete and utter fallibility to tickling was the greatest day of her life, and she made good use of the information every chance she got. After all, turning her solemn faced, unflappable boyfriend into a skittish woodland creature was a heady sort of power.

That and how big his eyes got at her betrayal was really cute.

Biting her lip, she holds her hands up in mock surrender. ‘Sorry,’ she says, watching his mouth turn down at her insincerity. He slowly lowers himself back onto the couch, settling in with the ease of a man who’s just wandered into a bear pit.

She makes sure to wait a good 5 minutes till he’s really comfortable before she twists her ankle and arches her foot up.

_‘Dammit!’_

He’s off the couch before she can blink, her eyes watering with how hard she’s laughing. It only grows worse as he hoists her up, getting an arm about her middle to propel her over his shoulder. Her delighted shriek unsettles the dogs from their place beneath the TV, and Jon pushes them both back with one leg, moving resolutely towards the bedroom.

‘It’s war now, Stark.’


End file.
